


Stay

by nisachara



Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, Konoha-Kiri joint mission AU, M/M, terrible communication skills, what are feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 09:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisachara/pseuds/nisachara
Summary: The joint missions between Konoha and Kiri might have fostered something a little more than friendship. Or… has it?





	Stay

There’s that part of this whole thing that he hates: that ever familiar sense of the mattress shifting right next to him. Shisui knows right away.  He knows, even if he keeps his eyes closed through it all (as if that would make it any better). There’s the quiet rustle of fabric, the clean _whoosh_ of a belt being pulled into place, the soft clink of metal. And he can tell by ear whether they’re pants or shirts or belts or bottles. He can tell by ear which belt goes on first. And he knows what Kubikiribōcho sounds like when it slips into its holster—or whatever it is that Suigetsu had made for it.

He can tell, too, when Suigetsu stops. He can _feel_ that stare. And there’s this big part of him that just wants to open his eyes and reach out for him— but Shisui stays his hand, stays his body, stays everything that’s within his control. It’s where he pretends he doesn’t hear, doesn’t notice, doesn’t know. It’s where he pretends that everything is fine and as it should be, that nothing ought to go beyond what it already is.

And it’s a whole lot of effort to try and calm the erratic breaths and the pounding that’s beginning to stir in his chest. He knows he can’t trick a Swordsman that easy—especially not when they’ve trained to use their ears as eyes, when it’s like you’re a rat in a hole with a snake closing in on you.

It takes a _lot_ of effort.

…And he doesn’t know why he goes through such lengths just to do so. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t straight up tell him that he’d rather he stayed—

Actually… he does know. He knew, and he didn’t want to hear it. –The answer, that is. He didn’t want to hear that this was good enough, that there’s nothing more, that he shouldn’t be turning this into anything else. He didn’t want to hear how it was impossible. He didn’t want to hear that they were too different. He didn’t want to hear, months down the line, that the Mizukage had decided to replace their regular team with a different one owing to a ‘conflict of interest’.

And he has to will away those thoughts right now because he can feel his heartbeat gear up into something fierce.

It’s just as well that he can finally hear footsteps receding towards the door. There’s the soft sliding of wood as it’s opened, and the gentle click as it’s shut.

Shisui listens intently—listening for proof that Suigetsu had put his sandals on and there…

…There’s the sound of footsteps moving further away.

–Until Shisui can’t hear them anymore and his eyes open, unblinking, just staring empty at the ceiling. Empty, empty, _empty_ …

…Until his breath comes back to him and his heart’s racing unfettered and it all happens so fast and all at once that he stumbles in the sheets, choking on nothing. And there’s a weight in his stomach that just drops somewhere so deep he’s convinced he’s hollower than hollow.

And his fingers curl in the sheets in the space beside him. Empty. Minutes too late.

He’s dizzy, somewhat, but finds himself out of those sheets somehow and sitting on the edge of his side of the bed: his side on any bed when it was just the two of them. His side—the side furthest away from the door.

And it’s just through muscle memory that he finds his things and pulls them back on.

Eventually he’s dressed enough to walk over to the window and reach over to dip a single finger lightly against one of the slats on the blinds, parting it enough to see what he wants to see. And he holds his breath, tries to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach that seems so endlessly hollow now.

_Turn around…_

But Suigetsu’s walking five meters, ten.

And Shisui’s counting the seconds.

_Please, turn around…_

At fifteen he lets go and steps away from the window.

He knows what it would be if he asked. He knows… and he doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want this to end. He’ll take the twisting guts, the empty hollow, the ache that cuts deeper than his chest.

He’ll take it all if it means it’s all he’ll ever get.

…Not knowing that at twenty seconds Suigetsu looks up to see the blinds intact and heaves a sigh, turning once more to join the rest of their team, trying to convince himself that this is how it should be… He didn’t want to hear that this was good enough, that there’s nothing more, that he shouldn’t be turning this into anything else. He didn’t want to hear how it was impossible. He didn’t want to hear that they were too different. He didn’t want to hear, months down the line, that the Hokage had decided to replace their regular team with a different one owing to a ‘conflict of interest’.


End file.
